


Last In, First Out

by FictionalKnight (Northern_Star)



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-02-14
Updated: 2009-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northern_Star/pseuds/FictionalKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_bradygirl_12"><a href="http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/"><b>bradygirl_12</b></a></span>'s <a href="http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/340338.html">2009 DCU Fic/Art Valentine's Day Challenge</a></p><p>With huge thanks to <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_capefetish"><a href="http://capefetish.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://capefetish.livejournal.com/"><b>capefetish</b></a></span> for...well, basically everything she's done in the last week to help make this fic happen.</p><p>(And anyone who gets the nerdy connotation in the title deserves a handful of brownie points.)</p>
    </blockquote>





	Last In, First Out

**Author's Note:**

> This is for [](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/profile)[**bradygirl_12**](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/) 's [2009 DCU Fic/Art Valentine's Day Challenge](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/340338.html)
> 
> With huge thanks to [](http://capefetish.livejournal.com/profile)[**capefetish**](http://capefetish.livejournal.com/) for...well, basically everything she's done in the last week to help make this fic happen.
> 
> (And anyone who gets the nerdy connotation in the title deserves a handful of brownie points.)

Bruce tightened the knot of his tie, staring at himself in the mirror. He couldn't believe he'd agreed to this... This was crazy. Completely, absolutely crazy!

He shook his head, took off the tie he'd just put on, and reached for another one instead.

"You're insane. You know that, right?" he said to his reflection as he adjusted the newly picked tie. Then he threw his hands in the air, realizing he was asking rhetorical questions to his mirror, and hence confirming his suspicions: he was out of his mind.

There was no other way to explain that he was standing here, nervously attempting to get dressed to go out.

Out _on a date..._

With Clark.

And not just any type of date, either. The kind that started at a fancy restaurant, and - with his luck - would probably end with a stroll along the waterfront, or some other romantic nonsense that spelled Valentine's Day in sickeningly pink lettering. Bruce cringed at the mere thought of it.

He'd lost his mind all right when he'd agreed to this. Temporary insanity. Had to be.

Bruce glanced at his reflection again, hating this tie just as much as the other twelve he'd tried on before. He took a quick look at his watch and sighed in annoyance. To hell with trying to find the perfect article of neckwear to go with this suit! If he didn't get going now, he'd be late.

He rolled his eyes when he heard his cell phone go off. If that was Clark calling to make sure Bruce was on his way, he was going to cancel this whole thing without a second thought about it.

However, when he grabbed his phone, Bruce realized that it wasn't a call, just a text message coming in. He flipped the phone open and hit the button to retrieve the message.

 _"Slight change of plans: will meet you there. S needed on other side of town. Won't take too long."_

Bruce frowned. He hoped it wasn't anything serious. Perhaps he could catch something about it on the news? He frowned some more when he realized that he'd felt a very distinct pang of disappointment that had nothing whatsoever to do with the amount of schedule balancing he had had to do in order to have an entire free evening for this _date_ which now suddenly stood the chance of being cancelled.

He sent a quick three-word reply, then dropped the phone in his jacket pocket, and, taking one last look at himself in the full-length mirror, shrugged at his reflection before leaving his hotel room.

Fifteen minutes later, he was being shown to a table in one of Metropolis' newest and most exclusive restaurants. Having made sure the Maitre D' knew that someone would be meeting him shortly, Bruce ordered a drink.

And then he waited.

Ten minutes passed, during which most of Bruce's attention was turned to the slowly melting ice cubes in his glass of Highland Park single malt scotch.

After another fifteen minutes of nursing his drink, and growing increasingly bored and annoyed with every new sip, Bruce ordered another.

If it had been anyone else, Bruce was sure that he'd have been long gone by now. He wasn't altogether certain why he was still sitting here, in fact, especially considering how annoyed he now was at Superman for making him wait like this, except perhaps for the fact that the Boy Scout wasn't doing it on purpose - he was out saving the world, as usual. One could hardly blame _Superman_ for doing such things...

Bruce took a long sip from his scotch. As he set the glass back down on the table, he spotted the Maitre D' heading toward his table, followed closely by a rather embarrassed and _out-of-place_ -looking Clark Kent.

Immediately, Bruce knew two things with absolute certainty: that he hadn't been out of his mind at all when he'd agreed to this, and that waiting here alone for twenty-five minutes wasn't anywhere near a big deal, in the grand scheme of things.

The first words out of Clark's mouth were "I'm really sorry," in a tone so over-apologetic, it was almost comical.

Bruce gave him a small smile. "Don't worry about it." Then, once the Maitre D' was far enough away not to hear, he added, "It's me, remember - _'stuck at work'_ is my middle name."

Clark frowned a little, surprised by Bruce's comment, but said nothing. Instead, he picked up the menu and started looking it over.

=+=+=+=

A couple of hours later they emerged from the restaurant and onto the sidewalk, full of good food and pleasant company.

They'd stood there barely more than a couple of minutes when a valet brought Bruce's car around. Clark's eyes went wide at his first glimpse of the outrageously expensive-looking sports car.

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle. "Bugatti Veyron," he offered as an explanation. "Just got it. Does zero to a hundred in eight point six seconds. Nice, huh?"

"Nice?" Clark echoed in disbelief. "Nice isn't exactly the term I'd use for it... This is... Wow... Some car!" He walked along its side, his mouth hanging slightly open as he marveled at its bodywork.

"Would you like to drive it?" Bruce asked Clark, after slipping the valet a hefty tip.

Clark's head snapped up immediately. For a moment he stood staring at Bruce, with an expression on his face that was somewhere halfway between excited and dumbfounded.

"Are-- are you-- _sure_?" he stuttered.

Bruce smiled. "If you feel like it...yeah. Go ahead." He gestured to the driver's side.

"You trust me with your car?" Clark asked, dubious.

"Of course I do," Bruce said in a chuckle. When Clark's frown just deepened, he added, "Clark... I trust you with my life pretty much every day."

"Yes, but--"

"It's just a _car_."

Clark cocked his head to the side for a moment, eyeing his companion as though trying to decide whether he was being made fun of or not. When it seemed clear that Bruce wasn't kidding, Clark went around the side of the car and took his place behind the steering wheel.

Bruce got in the passenger side a moment later, saying, "Besides, with _Superman_ driving, what's the worst that could happen?"

=+=+=+=

They'd been driving along for several minutes - driving very much under the speed limit for several minutes - and Bruce was doing all he could not to get annoyed at Clark for being so damn cautious. It wasn't so much that Bruce wanted them to get anywhere in a hurry, but if he had wanted to go on a Sunday drive, he would have had Alfred chauffeur them around instead.

Still, he'd promised himself he'd be agreeable tonight. All night. Even if it killed him.

Bruce looked out of the passenger-side window, attempting to clear his mind of such negative thoughts. As the buildings they were passing started to become more and more familiar, he realized that they weren't going in the right direction. Or, at the very least, they weren't going where he thought they were supposed to be going...

"You're taking us to my hotel?" he asked, frowning.

Clark cast a glance in Bruce's direction, frowning as well. "Well...yeah, of course. Why? Did you have something else in mind?"

"Somehow I didn't exactly picture you as the type who would put out on the first date," Bruce replied in a chuckle. Before Clark had any chance to protest, Bruce went on, "I somehow thought we were going to head back to your place. And then, I'd probably walk you up to your apartment, tell you I had a great time, kiss you goodnight, and...I don't _know_... I guess -" he shrugged "- something like that?"

"Really?"

Bruce shrugged again. "Isn't that pretty standard for a first date? I mean, I'm a little rusty, but..."

"That sounds... _nice_ ," Clark told him. He gave Bruce a lopsided smile, then turned the car around and headed in the opposite direction.

Bruce bit back a laugh upon noticing that they were now cruising along, well _above_ the speed limit.

It took only a few minutes for them to reach Clinton street, and only a few more to get to number 344. Clark brought the car in front of the apartment building, and cut the engine almost immediately.

Looking out the window, Bruce realized that, though he'd gotten Clark to turn the car around so they'd come here, he didn't actually want to _be_ here. Not yet.

Perhaps not later, either...

Because _here_ meant that the evening was over. And while the thought of a goodnight kiss by the side of Clark's door was definitely a pleasant one, the idea that this would signal the end of the evening wasn't exactly appealing.

But Bruce couldn't decide between what he wanted, what he thought was appropriate, and what Clark thought and wanted.

Should things really end at the door? It was a first date, after all. Or should they go further than that, even considering the whole first date element?

The decision was made for him when Clark announced, "Well, we're here," and he slowly opened the door to step out of the car.

Clark had spoken in such a wistful tone that for a moment, Bruce was tempted to suggest they should drive around for a while longer. Perhaps all the way to Gotham, even -- a little under two hours away.

But he'd had more than enough of sitting in the car already, and what he wanted above all right now was that kiss he'd mentioned - a kiss, and a touch, or even just the simplest of actual, physical contact. So with that in mind, Bruce got out of the car.

Clark joined him on the sidewalk a moment later and lightly tossed him the keys to his sports car. "Thanks for letting me take her out for a spin," he said, grinning.

"Sure." Bruce smiled and slipped the keys in his pocket, before following Clark over to the front door of the apartment complex.

They went inside, and then up the stairs in silence, all the way up to the third floor, then down the hallway to the door marked 3B.

"I guess this is it, then," Clark said, as he slowly turned to face Bruce.

Bruce immediately noted that, if Clark had seemed sad before, he looked just short of crestfallen now. Apparently neither of them really wanted to be standing here, staring the end of their date in the face...

"Looks like," Bruce replied after a moment. He smoothed his hand on the lapel of Clark's navy blue suit. "Listen, maybe--"

"Could we not pretend this is a first date?" Clark cut in immediately. Seemingly surprised by his own boldness, he amended, "I mean, I know this is technically the first one, but... I-- we-- Could we skip ahead a little and call this, I don't know, a third date, maybe? At least a third. Or a fifth? A tenth?"

A smile started spreading across Bruce's lips. He ran the back of his fingers slowly over Clark's jaw line, and softly replied, "I suppose we could." Then, closing the distance between them, he gently pressed his lips to his companion's.

A soft sigh later, and what had begun as a sweet, tender kiss was now a heated, almost ferocious one. Lips devouring, and tongues tasting without cease.

When the need to breathe broke them apart, Clark rested his forehead against Bruce's, saying, "You hadn't really planned on just... leaving me here and going back to your hotel, had you?"

"I guess not," Bruce admitted, still panting slightly. "I'm not sure... You're the one who suggested this, I was just following along. This...seemed like the appropriate thing to do - the proper way to treat someone on a _first_ date."

Clark pulled away some, frowning in amusement. "You're not seriously trying to convince me that you've ever been this _appropriate_ with the people you've dated before."

Shrugging away a touch of embarrassment, Bruce confessed, "No. But none of them were you, either."

"Ah, so I'm special then, am I?" Clark asked. He had the most sparkling glint of mischief in his eyes.

In a whisper, Bruce replied, "Very." Then he leaned in for another kiss.

Moments later, Clark pulled back and suggested, "So, how about... You get back to your hotel - in keeping with your nice new _appropriate_ attitude - and... I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

"I'd like that."

"See, this way, we can call _this_ our first date, and since it'll be midnight soon... we can call _that_ -" Clark wiggled his eyebrows "- the second one."

"More like the two hundred and thirty sixth," Bruce told him, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

Clark's eyes widened immediately. "You counted?" he asked in disbelief.

"While I was waiting for you at the restaurant, earlier," Bruce admitted. Then he shrugged. "It was either that or equations pertaining to the 'size versus melt-time ratio' of the ice cubes in my scotch. This...took less time to figure out...but it was a lot more pleasant to think about."

"I'm glad you think so." A quick little kiss later, Clark added, "I'm also glad you finally agreed to go out on an actual date with me."

"You know, in retrospect, I'm not so disappointed you insisted so much."

"Does that mean I won't have to insist as much next time?"

Bruce chuckled at that. "We can have all the next times you like," he said, absently stroking Clark's arm. "Just don't expect me to be this appropriate every time."

"Oh, I won't," Clark told him, the hints of a wicked little smile appearing on his lips. "In fact, I hope you'll show me just how completely inappropriate you can be..."

"The second you show up at my hotel," Bruce promised. As he started walking away, he looked over his shoulder and added, "Don't make me wait too long."

Clark smiled as he remembered just how fast Bruce's car was, and how soon that meant he could show his lover just how appropriate being inappropriate could be.

=> End.


End file.
